Keep Struggling!

Georgia let out an annoyed sigh, before standing up. She walked over to the weasel, pulling her pants down. She squatted down, her ass mere inches away from her face. Her underwear was darkened and green, most likely from her putrid gas. She promptly slammed her ass against her face, it reeked of ****, like something crawled in there and died. Thank god she was wearing underwear, or she'd just suffer more.

" I ate a couple pots of chili today, and unless you wanna find out how that smells for the next hour, I suggest you listen. "

She stood up, looking behind her. There was nothing, not even the chair was there.

" For fucks sake . . "

She muttered, reaching in between her massive mounds. She dug around until she felt the weasel, pulling them our from between her smelly prison that she called her ass. She sat her down, she was covered in ass sweat. Not her fault, she should have listened! She pulled her pants back up, barely managing to fit them over her rear.

" Where's April?! "

Texas yelled, she didn't spot the fox anywhere.

" Oh right, her. "

Georgia once again pulled her pants back down, that was already a bad sign. She pulled her underwear down as well, squatting down and spreading her cheeks. All the weasel could see was a rope knot sticking out of her backdoooo . . .

Oh god.

Georgia grabbed the knot of the rope, pulling hard. With a wet *sqrrllch* , the fox was pulled out of her rear, covered in sticky, brown fluid. She was ****, but breathing. Texas couldn't believe what she had saw, sure, she saved April from being Roxxie's cushion, but she wasn't expecting her to be used as a buttplug for Georgia!

" There's your pal. Don't worry, she's not dead, yet. "

She smirked at Texas, she was being completely serious. If she wanted to, the fox could have been flattened beyond repair, but instead she opted for something more pleasurable.